You know that crazy high phone bill you get surprised with when your kid calls some chat line or sends 50,000 texts? I got one of those. Live and learn.

Sitting outside the VA hospital, waiting for Dad to get out of surgery. He’s got this bone burr thing. I read about it, but that was a year ago when they first said he needed to have some simple procedure to have it removed.

Looking for the smoking area I passed the barber shop and there was a tiny old man sitting in the chair, talking to the barber.

Once I start talking about Pearl Harbor and World War Two, I can’t lie about my age, ya know?

I keep sleeping through my alarms. If I didn’t have anything important to do, it wouldn’t be a big deal. However, if I sleep through ny alarms and don’t open my store, I might get fired.

And that’s bad.

So I found this app where you have to do math to turn off the alarm or make it snooze. I thought it would be a great idea. Unfortunately I appear to have an amazing ability to add and subtract regardless of how awake I am. In fact, I seem to be better when I’m not fully awake than when I’m fully awake.

And that’s a scary thought.

Though it’s not nearly aa frightening as how many people it took to change the soap in the bathroom today.

I got this call from my store asking how to do it. They said they’d both tried, and nothing was working. So I asked if they had the key.

Which makes me sad, because what kind if world do we live in where soap dispensers have to be designed to keep people from stealing the specially designed soap container that only dispenses soap from an approved dispenser?

So, anyway, they found the key in another dispenser, however, they were unable to dislodge it. These aren’t little weakling nerdy boys. These are down to earth guys, one of which is delightfully blue collar and the other is active and athletic. Yet neither of them could pull one little piece of plastic out of the other. Right.

Uriah to the rescue.

So I get out of my oh-so-comfy bed and drive over to my store. Sure enough, the key won’t budge. I was emasculated three inches of plastic.

Somewhere along the way, while explaining how to do it over the phone, they got a thing stuck in the empty dispenser. This thinglooks like the appropriate tool, however, it is not.

So.

I have to drop to my knees in this tiny bathroom and wedge myself between the toilet and the wall just to look at this thing. (There’s a nice gay joke in there somewhere, I’m sure.)

Long story short, I was saved by my pen. And I’m sure tomorrow I’ll get a call or text message from someone telling me I’m an idiot for not knowing how to unjam it.

The highlight of my day was The Grocery Store calling me in regards to my survey. I wonder if they got my email yet? The woman on the phone sounded so cheerful. Hopefully I’ll have some cool story about our conversation tomorrow.

I remember when my favorite grocery store opened. I fell in love with it. It was bright and shiny and new. Everyone was happy and friendly. My parents didn’t like it, but I did. I’d even stop in during lunch in high school to grab some fresh fruit or something to munch on during class.

So when I moved back here in 2005, where did I go to do my grocery shopping? That same store. But, of course, it changed with time, as all things do.

Below is a copy of what I sent customer service tonight after my latest and, I fear, possibly last visit to what once was my favorite place to shop.

This store seems to be on a downward slide. It’s been that way for a few years now. Every time the store gets staffed with good people (hard workers, polite, friendly), they don’t last very long. The store is often (regardless of the time of day) dirty, with bags laying in the aisles. I work as a retail manager, and I cringe every time I walk into this store and someone is mopping because it would appear this store doesn’t have the budget to purchase the appropriate CAUTION signs. When I arrived and tried to find parking, the cart attendant was loading carts and filling the thoroughfare, then proceeded to stop, while blocking traffic, and talk to friends. When I left a different cart attendant was doing the same thing. There was a kid in produce who almost ran over an elderly customer with his carts. I’ve been in line at this store at 10pm and watched as they shut down registers, heedless to the customers waiting. Honestly, however, the state of the produce department on today’s visit, as well as 7/27/12, have me rethinking my shopping habits. There were fruit flies everywhere. There was rotten fruit (lemons, limes, plums, peaches), the last batch of fresh blueberries I purchased were the worst I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve never had a berry that was firm and beautiful outside, yet a mushy mess inside. I understand this is a quality issue from the supplier, most likely, however, with the state of the sales floor, I cannot help but question the state of the storage area. And this isn’t the first time I’ve purchased disastrously detestable fruit. Last year I purchased three pounds of green plumcots, only to have them eaten from the inside out by pests. This makes me question the quality of the produce from other locations and wonder if there are, in fact, adequate quality controls in place. The cashier on Friday’s visit was blatantly rude to myself, the customer before me, and the bagger who came to assist him. The bagger, however, was polite and cordial, and provided me with the greetings (albeit late) the cashier refused, even when I greeted HIM. I was certainly glad I didn’t have any questions or problems with my transaction aside from his attitude. What I would really like is to know what happened to my HEB? I’ve shopped at this store since it was built. I’d stop and get fresh fruit for lunch when I went to Clark. It was a great store where everyone seemed happy and everyone was polite. Please bring my old HEB back.

I’m going to miss the convenience of shopping at this store, but I’d rather have a hassle and no insect infestations. I’d rather drive further and spend a few extra dollars at Sprouts, knowing I’ll be treated like a customer rather than an annoyance.